


Something Blue(Balls)

by fatcamp



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bearded Stiles Stilinski, Church Sex, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Engagement, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Feels, Humor, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mates, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Snowballing, Weddings, mentioned sex pollen, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2736539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatcamp/pseuds/fatcamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It may be Scott and Kira’s special day, but Derek and Stiles will be the first ones to come together in the church.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Blue(Balls)

**Author's Note:**

> This exercise in writing smut took on a little life of its own. Enjoy!

After five years together, Derek and Stiles are no strangers to sex in unconventional places. There was the utility room at the British Museum when the pack had visited Jackson for the first time. Stiles would not shut up with _An American Werewolf In London_ jokes, so Derek took it on himself to do it for him...with his dick. Or as Derek so lovingly told Stiles, “put a _cock_ in it.” There was also the time on the Ferris wheel at the Beacon County Fair after a particularly grueling fight to the death for the last car with a pair of witch sisters, both of whom Derek had dated. This led Stiles to comment on _Derek’s Dating Dead Pool_ , then asking to touch _Derek’s Deadly Dick_ (Stiles could play this alliteration game all night). It culminated in the two hastily jerking each other off, exchanging gasps and quiet moans between their mouths as their mechanical booth traced its circular path through the night.

And of course there was the Jail Incident—”We agreed not to talk about that, Stiles. EVER,” Derek would huff if the young man ever brought it up. Sheriff Stilinski happened to be in the area when the happy couple made a sexual spectacle of themselves at a local restaurant, and he thought he had no choice but to put them in the drunk tank for the night to sleep it off and teach them a lesson. Naturally they did no sleeping due to the fact that Stiles’ thighs spread just like peanut butter. After Deputy Parrish had to peek through the little window of the locked door and threaten the pair to cut out the funny business one time too many, the sheriff figured it had to be something supernatural. No one was aware at the time that the couple had accidentally dosed themselves with a strain of wolfsbane that kicked their libido into uncontrollable overdrive, bordering on intoxication. The sheriff unlocked the door to retrieve them, only to find his son prone on the cell bench. The boy was drawing wheezing breaths and going cross-eyed in a fit of pleasure thanks to the werewolf’s face buried in his ass, making the most obscene lapping and grunting noises. When all was said and done, Stiles may or may not have stashed a little of what he later dubbed the Horny Wolf Weed for later use on such occasions as anniversaries, vacations, or days that end in –y. 

So it doesn’t really come as a surprise that Derek and Stiles find themselves groping each other in a closet of the church where Scott and Kira are to be wed shortly. A full morning of pack activities left the pair with no time alone for release since their shower at the asscrack of dawn. It may have only been a handful of hours since they last got off; but in what Stiles calls Horny Werewolf Nookie Time, that’s practically an eternity. 

The pair had been unable to withstand any more tortuous waiting and made a lame excuse about having to retrieve something from the car. They left Scott to finish getting dressed with the assistance of Jackson and Danny while Isaac and Boyd watched. They practically sprinted by the girls’ room where Lydia put the finishing touches on Kira’s dress and veil. Erica’s suggestions to “sex up” the dress were shot down out of hand, and Cora rolled her eyes from the sidelines. Malia was of course not in attendance, having been unable to cope with existence as a human teenager and gone back to the woods several years ago to live once again the simple life of a coyote.

Running down hallways, Stiles’ head whipped back and forth in search of a suitably uninhabited area and Derek trailed right behind him, unable to keep his hands off the mesmerizing ass in front of him. The firm yet bouncy flesh was truly a work of beauty, especially in movement. Derek’s mouth watered at the contracting and relaxing of the jostling muscle at his fingertips. Impatience winning out, the younger man finally just picked a door at random, flung it open, dragged his boyfriend inside, and slammed the door behind them.

They find themselves in a supply closet filled with boxes of toilet paper, soap dispenser refills, and paper towels. It will do. Stiles reaches up and yanks the string hanging from a bare light bulb, giving light to the cramped space. While his supernaturally gifted partner may have night vision, he’d prefer to be able to see the perfection in front of him with his human eyes. He gives Derek a brief, licentious glare and licks his full pink lips. He is winded from running, but wastes no time in pressing their bodies together groin-first and pushing Derek up against the door before mashing their faces together in an uncoordinated fashion. 

The wirily muscled man can’t keep his hands off Derek and puts them to work roaming and groping and teasing every sexy inch they can reach as he grinds their hips together with a whimper, rubbing their half hard bulges against each other. The powerful man frames Stiles’ face in his large hands, gently rubbing his thumbs over the facial hair that Stiles has managed to grow; and it turns into a sloppy, heated kiss comprised of tongues, teeth, and growls. Derek bites and sucks at the boy’s lower lip just the way he knows Stiles likes it, extracting a satisfied whine. Their tongues intertwine in a sensual dance as they explore one another’s mouths and bask in the familiar tastes. Even after being together for so long, they still feel giddy like this, as if they can hardly believe it’s real.

The boy’s scruff is a source of mild contention among the pack members, with Scott being Stiles’ only advocate. Stiles is quite proud of his accomplishment and just that morning sternly reprimanded Jackson, “hey! You will respect what began as a humble stubblepillar and has now metamorphosed into the majestic beardyfly before you.” He may join in some of the teasing, but Derek happens to be fond of the strugglebeard. Being madly in love with its owner certainly helps.

Derek takes this opportunity to break their kiss, drawing a string of saliva between their mouths, in order to tilt Stiles’ head in a way that exposes his impossibly long neck. He would never admit it to anyone else, but his pet name for the boy is Giraffe. As evidenced by the stuffed animal that lives on the nightstand by Stiles’ side of the bed and the small cartoonish tattoo toward the top of Derek’s left butt cheek that matches the cartoon wolf inked onto the same spot on Stiles.

He buries his nose in the crook of that long neck and slowly draws in the dizzying scent of his mate as one hand moves to the nape and the other, having sprouted claws at the tips of his fingers, etches a tantalizing path down Stiles’ chest. He wants to pop the buttons and rip the shirt off the ardent boy, but he supposes they should remain somewhat presentable for the day’s big event. Derek settles for inserting his fingers into the openings between buttons and scratching lightly into the small but dense patch of hair Stiles managed to grow between his leanly muscled pecs as he works his tongue in a wet path up to his jaw.

“Oh, God,” Stiles forces out between stuttered breaths. He then seems to realize they have limited window and decides it’s time to get to work. He massages his hands over Derek’s shoulders and turns his head to rub their facial hair together with a hot breath, then he catches the stalwart man’s mouth with his own. A brief but lascivious kiss later, and Stiles plants his hands on Derek’s tapered waist to balance himself. The tawny eyed man begins to sink to his knees, opening the shirt in front of him and placing open mouthed kisses and bites along the bronzed abs incrementally lower as he makes his way toward his goal.

The brawny werewolf leans back, closes his eyes, and sighs in anticipation of what is coming next. He’s caressing a shoulder with one hand and delicately carding his now blunt fingers through the already wild hair of the man now resting on his knees in front of his crotch. Stiles bites his lower lip as his long, nimble fingers work fervorously to undo the fly in front of him that is getting in the way of Derek’s strained erection. Having removed the first layer keeping Stiles from the prize that is Derek’s junk, he smirks and flicks his gaze upward to find his boyfriend’s eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. 

He knows he needs to get this show on the road for time’s sake, but he can’t resist just pressing his face into the impressive bulge of the black boxer briefs before him. He noses forward and wiggles his head as he grasps the incredibly toned ass where his hands have settled. This wrests an encouraging groan from Derek as Stiles nuzzles in and inhales deeply so his dull human sense of smell can catch everything it can. He’s no werewolf, but the redolent mix of laundry detergent, light sweat, and clean musk is enough to make him shiver. Derek is aware of exactly what Stiles is going for, and it turns him on that much more that his boyfriend would display such lupine behavior befitting a mate. The bowed man mouths wetly at one of Derek’s balls and kneads his sturdy ass prior to moving his mouth to the other globe.

He draws his tongue along the cock pulsing against the fabric in front of him and hooks his fingers in Derek’s waistband. He yanks the offending garment down to Derek’s knees in one swift motion, which allows the hard member, now free of the cloth prison, to spring against Stiles’ face as he tries to catch it with his tongue out like he would a snowflake. He misses and manages to get in a light lick while playfully chasing it, causing Derek to chuckle and gasp simultaneously.

Stiles continues to palm and squeeze the succulent rear and licks a teasing stripe up the left side crease of the groin before his face. The werewolf has a rather fair amount of body hair, and the fair man on his knees delights in the feeling of the surprisingly soft follicles slicking down under his lingual ministrations. Derek’s hands have found their way to the smooth, mole-dotted sides of Stiles’ neck and jaw, tracing patterns among the marks, as if he fears any of them will feel left out. 

Ignoring the ache beginning to grow in his knees, Stiles wishes they had more time. He wishes he had time to envelop his face in Derek’s ass to worship it deservedly. He wishes to take the time to lap at his furry hole and work the hirsute man open with his tongue while tugging Derek’s dick with his clever hands until his fangs extend and he begs for release. For now a quick teasing lick across his taint along the way to sucking as much of Derek Hale’s balls as he can fit into his mouth will have to make do. The muscular man’s hands have moved to tensely play with Stiles’ hair, and he can sense the werewolf beginning to grow impatient. Releasing the balls from his mouth with a wet pop, Stiles finally catches the head of Derek’s cock in mouth. He suckles some in order to draw out what he can of the sweet tasting precome gathered at the slit. 

Derek moans at this, and Stiles brings a hand around to grip the thick cock at its base to give him a better angle. He gathers as much saliva in his mouth as he can and opens up in order to run his tongue down the impressive, veiny length. When Stiles makes his way back to the head of Derek’s dick, he brings it past his moist lips and finally engulfs as much as he can. Derek exhales sharply and digs his fingers further into Stiles’ hair. The acquiescent man gets to work, bobbing expertly and groaning with pleasure at the salty taste of his mate. He hollows his cheeks and slurps lewdly as he enthusiastically pleases Derek with his adept oral skills.

The grip in his hair tightens as he cedes control to the werewolf. Derek then moves his hands to either side of his lover’s face and impales him on his sex until the upturned nose is brushing against pubic hair. It prompts Stiles’ hand to move from the steel dick in his mouth to playing with his hairy balls, grasping both of them and lightly tugging. This also brings Stiles to jerk and gag, but it arouses him even more and augments his resolve to bring Derek to climax. The thick cockhead bumping the back of his throat serves as intense motivation to get himself off as well. In a feat of remarkable multitasking, Stiles’ other hand undoes his own pants and reaches in to jerk at his smooth erection, using his copious precome as lubricant. He manages to coat a finger of his other hand in the slick substance, and raises it to press through the nest of soft hair against Derek’s clenched pucker. All the while, he’s fighting through watery eyes and the insistent pressure at his tonsils as Derek attempts to bring himself further into Stiles.

The human on his knees chokes intermittently and does his best to withstand the increasing pace while Derek’s rigid thickness relentlessly plunges into the wet warmth of his willing mouth as deep as it will go. Stiles whimpers in a high pitch as his own orgasm approaches. He circles his finger at Derek’s furled entrance and wriggles it to slightly breach into the searing heat he finds within, stimulating him further at the knowledge that even a small amount of his own seed is inside his mate’s ass.

He squeezes his eyes shut, causing tears to run a salty trail down his cheeks and into his sparse beard. Derek starts panting, and his strong hands guide Stiles’ stretched mouth back and forth along his cock faster than ever as the werewolf’s heavy balls draw upward in anticipation of the imminent climax. Stiles is furiously pumping his hand on his own dick, and he quickly shoves his finger all the way into Derek’s ass to massage at the bundle of nerves whose location he is intimately familiar with. 

The wolf shouts as if his orgasm takes him by surprise and pulls the human’s face off his dick by gingerly grasping his scruffy chin, and Stiles looks upward while catching his breath. The pair lock eyes as they strip their cocks, and Stiles opens his prurient mouth wide to stick his tongue out in expectant preparation. Derek bucks his hips as the first throes of his orgasm spread from his balls to rush through his body. Stiles just barely beats him there, as the scent of the quivering man’s come sharply invades Derek’s nostrils, causing them to flare as he jets rope after rope of his white release over that euphoric countenance, in his whiskers, and on his eager tongue. 

Stiles luxuriates in the brief warmth of the spurts on his face and gratification of his own climax, having spilled all over his hand and knuckles. He once again latches his wicked mouth around the beautiful cock already softening in front of him and milks it for every drop of seed while threads of it sway with the motions of his head. Satisfied that he’s worked out and swallowed all that there is, Stiles hums and slowly withdraws from Derek’s cock to let it hang smugly, evoking a few light gasps from the wolf who leans down purposefully. The human knows what his partner’s goal is. Stiles raises his hand to allow Derek to lick it clean, lapping his wide tongue all over to consume every bit of piquant essence available.

Derek looks down at his mate fondly and caresses his cheeks, not minding that they’re covered with his come. The digit still inside him retreats somewhat and lets the muscled ring naturally push and release it. The chestnut eyed man pauses to swipe his thumb lovingly along where he knows the giraffe tattoo to be. Stiles smirks lasciviously and brings the finger to his own mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking to taste all of Derek that he can. This action turns the upright man’s gaze on the kneeling boy into one of pure blissful adoration.

Being the subject of such a look cements a decision in Stiles’ mind. He thinks of their time together and smiles contentedly. He thinks of the comfortable loft which now serves as their home. He thinks of the puppy they adopted last year that is simultaneously an absolute menace and sweetheart, but brings forth a fatherly side in Derek that he wants to see with their children some day. He thinks about Derek snaking those tan arms around his pale mole-dusted waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder as Stiles cooks them dinner, insisting that Ina Garten can do no wrong. He thinks of his mate and the life they share and how he can’t wait a single minute longer to know that they’ll also be married in the eyes of human law.

Fingers trembling with excitement, he fishes momentarily in his pocket and withdraws the small black velvet box. Stiles had planned to do this later in front of the pack as they all celebrated Scott and Kira’s union, but this feels right. Besides, he was already on his knees. Drawing one leg up to assume the traditional pose, he licks his lips, affording him another taste of his boyfriend’s spunk, opens the box to reveal the flat gold band, and begins, “Derek, my beautiful and oft grumpy wolf.” Derek’s thick eyebrows shoot up. It is quite a scene to take in. Both of them still have their flaccid, spent cocks hanging out of their trousers, and Stiles’ face is covered in Derek’s semen. His proud beard is glistening with it, and several pearly strands pendulate from his chin as he continues. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my lawfully wedded werewolf husband? Well, not that the law is going to know about your lycanthropy or anything. Although technically speaking some people law-adjacent already do know about it...there’s my dad, Parrish, that one--”

“Stiles,” Derek cuts him off calmly and lifts the young man by his shoulders so they are approximately eye-to-eye before continuing with fondness in his voice, “of course I will, you idiot.” The fully bearded man’s lips spread widely into a smile that shows his slightly longer front teeth that Stiles finds adorable. It mirrors Stiles’ own goofy, lovestruck grin before he bites his lower lip, scrunches his features together, and fist pumps the air. “Yes! Stilinski scores.”

Derek moves his hands from the boy’s shoulders to grip his slim waist and says, “now get that thing on me so you can brag about it to all your friends.” Stiles does exactly that, almost dropping the ring only once due to the traces of slick saliva and come that coat his fingers. They both observe the perfect fit on Derek’s ring finger tenderly, then the older man decides to relieve Stiles’ face of its mess before it dries to a crust. He cradles the come-splattered face in his hands and proceeds to slurp and lave his release, sharing it through sloppy kisses until none remains visible. 

It’s during one of these jizz-flavored kisses that the pair realizes that they can hear snickering coming from right outside the closet door. “Scott,” Derek grumbles, “how long have you all been there?”

They hear Scott laugh breathily, “long enough to know you two filthy jerks who disappeared on me are now engaged.” The couple manage to have enough sense to put their dicks away and zip up before Stiles yanks the door open excitedly. They’re met with the entire pack giving them looks ranging from Kira’s flushed embarrassment to Erica’s nodding smirk of approval. Derek hangs back behind Stiles and looks down, blushing. The ecstatic human, however, could not be bothered to be ashamed. He snagged himself a mighty fine werewolf fiancé and is damn proud of it. Stiles grabs Derek’s left hand and drags him forward, holding it up for all to see.

“Look, Scotty! I put a ring on it!” he gleefully exclaims and high fives the groom.

“Way to go, man!” Scott congratulates him before his face falls in disgust, and he timidly sniffs the offending hand he just high fived Stiles with, “gross, bro!” The pack erupts with raucous laughter, and the newly engaged pair draw together as close as they can. Stiles is still smiling and rests his head on his mate’s shoulder with their arms tightly wrapped around each other. 

“Love you, Wolfy,” Stiles mumbles contentedly.

“I love you too, Giraffe,” Derek replies as he places a kiss on top of his fiancé’s head.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to ficcindylan for being an especially awesome editrix as well as lending me the use of her terms stubblepillar, beardyfly, and strugglebeard.


End file.
